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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26862586">Drinking Buddies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/googlycat/pseuds/googlycat'>googlycat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dungeons &amp; Dragons (Roleplaying Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - Dungeons &amp; Dragons, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Bondage, D&amp;D, Dungeons &amp; Dragons 5th Edition, Dungeons &amp; Dragons Campaign, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, Heavy BDSM, High Fantasy, Kink, M/M, Multi, Persistent World, Sex Positive, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, kink positive, lgbtq positive</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:55:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,692</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26862586</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/googlycat/pseuds/googlycat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A group of weary travelers relaxes at a tavern to tell tales about their exploits in the setting of Astoria - an original world inspired by old school Dungeons &amp; Dragons that intertwines the aspects of classic medieval magic adventures with globalized kink in a serious and non-pornlike manner. Tags ought to speak for themselves. </p>
<p>The oneshot is actually an attempt of a desperate DM to find players for a second party in the aforementioned persistent world, as well as just sex- and kink-positive people that would like to hang out in a small community that already exists around it. The game is 5th edition and text-based.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Drinking Buddies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First of all, thanks for taking interest and sorry to those coming from Soulmates, if there are any. I will finish it one day, I promise. (actually not kidding but it will take years)</p>
<p>So, Astoria. </p>
<p>The idea behind creating a world where kink and sex is interwoven with magic and adventure is a serious attempt at a mature and unrestricted game. If you are looking for cheap erp and haha put dik in vegana, just don't click the invite link. First and foremost, Astoria is a living and persistent world, made not for the sake of getting off, but with the help of what excites us, to provide something unique that you won't see on every server or another piece of media. </p>
<p>The world does not revolve around kink and sex, though the oneshot is sexualized to express that the game can go there in detail. Still, kink is only an aspect of the world. If I were to remove the nsfw aspects of the game, the world would survive - you would be left with a classic D&amp;D inspired medieval fantasy setting that would hold up for any regular adventure. </p>
<p>Mechanically speaking, it is a text-based 5th edition post-by-post game using Discord, the D&amp;D bot Avrae for combat, and Roll20 for battlemaps. I like making fancy ones. And also lots of lore. </p>
<p>So join:</p>
<p>https://discord.gg/4dq5pNw</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Naaaah. Brothels and temples these daysh? Only the rishch shnobs can afford 'em. ... hic!"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The drunk man's breath reeked of so much spirit that Lyndon thought he could get drunk himself just from the proximity.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>... What even was his name? The guy sat down at the table without a hint of invitation and started babbling all kinds of drunkard wisdom that was not wisdom at all.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In any tavern of repute he'd be thrown out by now – even the chair struggled to keep his swaying posture straight. How was he capable of speaking in this state could only be explained by years of practice with the mug.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Yet, none of the others around the table seemed to mind, nor Lyndon himself. That's kind of just how things were in small town taverns like this. Everybody's everybody's drinking buddy. Peasant, drunkard, slave – you set the social status aside, because you're just too tired after traveling the whole day, and all you want is to relax and listen to whatever people with the energy to speak have to say.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Plus, it's a classic way to learn about the local problems that only a mercenary's axe could solve.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"... You gotta put up coin for: eqshuipment, the hroom, the food, the dhrink, the affrodishiacs, the ... the... "</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He listed things by tapping each of his fingers so sloppily that Lyndon almost made a game out of guessing which ones he will miss, having given up on picking up a hint for a job from him a long time ago.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"We get it old man, you can't afford it."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That was the orcish lady sitting across the drunkard. Though lady is not exactly how you'd ever address an orc. Lyndon guessed she was some kind of guard or merc like him – the drunkard spoke too much to really let people introduce themselves.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Hic! Nooo – it'sh not about that! Why shpend all that money for just an hour, maybe two, of entertainment? Why, when you can just go to a tavern and get drunk for the whole night?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The half elf across the table from Lyndon burst into a laughter. The orc woman shook her head. Lyndon himself hid his face in his palm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Watching their reactions, the drunkard slammed the table with his fist in a forceful yet angerless manner, refocusing the table's attention on himself.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I've alwaysh shaid – the tavern is the heart of the town! Where elshe would you enjoy yourshelf like that, huh? ... hic! Would you find good schaps like us at a temple? I don't thhink sho."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The half elf with the traveling cloak wiped a tear from his eye, still smirking a bit.</p>
<p>"Indeed. Why worship the Weavers if you could just drink at a tavern instead?"</p>
<p>There was a hint of sarcasm. He scoffed slightly.</p>
<p>"I don't mean to sound overbearing, but you should take better care of your soul, old man. I feel it's gonna matter pretty soon."<br/><br/></p>
<p>"Shoul-shmoul. Bah."</p>
<p>He waved his hand dismissively.</p>
<p>"If the Weaversh wanted more out of my shoul, they should have popped it into thish world through a pretty noble lady instead of the wife of a horshe rancher."<br/><br/>The orc 'lady' grunted with a slight grimace.</p>
<p>"Don't need to be a noble to make something out of yourself."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon gave her an approving nod, raising his mug.</p>
<p>"Yeah, I'll drink to that."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The nod was mirrored before she joined him, and the half elf followed suit. The drunkard also took a sloppy gulp.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wiping his lips with his cuff, Lyndon leaned back and crossed his arms. If this drunkard was going to be the entertainment of the evening, it's about time he took advantage.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"So entertain me, then. Why spend your money at a tavern every night, if you could simply train your slave to entertain you?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Baaaah."</p>
<p>The drunkard dismissively waved his hand again, seemingly not even realizing it was still holding the cup and almost spilling out what remained.</p>
<p>"You gotta buy one in the first plache and they ain't cheap. And then you gotta feed them every day, have shpace for 'em, and whem am I shuppos't to train one? I train horshes for a living, dushk 'till dawn."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The half elf shrugged.</p>
<p>"Then get yourself a ponygirl."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The drunkard's eyes went wide as he splurted half his drink back into his mug.</p>
<p>"PFFT! A ponygirl! <em>A ponygirl!</em> Only the richesht shnobs! ... ghhrhmm... "<br/><br/></p>
<p>It seemed that the man's mind had finally succumbed to the poison of the mug – his words slurred completely, and after a moment of swaying his mug about, he just collapsed on the table, mumbling something about the damn rich snobs affording things that nobody could possibly afford.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The orc woman shook her head again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Well, that's one down."</p>
<p>Lyndon raised his mug.</p>
<p>"May it take us a lot longer to collapse like that."</p>
<p>He downed the remainder in one gulp – there wasn't much.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The orc sort of shrugged with just one shoulder before downing her own.</p>
<p>"Sure will for me."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This time the half elf didn't join. Instead, he stared at the passed out drunk with a thoughtful look.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Pity, Lyndon thought.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It also gave him a chance to finally pay some attention to who was at the table. The orc was a tall woman in light armor – half leather, half steel, similar to his own, with her weapon similarly laying against the table beside her backpack.</p>
<p>The half-elf didn't quite look like the fighting type, or at least not your usual kind. He had this dark traveling cloak that for some reason he still wore indoors, and where it parted at his chest only offered a small glimpse at some sort of darkish clothes with some kind of symbols.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Normally people like that had the shady aura of a criminal around them, but for some reason Lyndon's read was quite the opposite.</p>
<p>"You a religious man?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The half elf huffed a little scoff.</p>
<p>"Guess you could say so. The prefix is usually 'holy'."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The orc raised her brow in surprise.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon made a somewhat disbelieving grimace.</p>
<p>"What, a cleric?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He simply nodded.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon scoffed.</p>
<p>"No kidding? The hell did you forget in a place like this?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The question was replied to with a tired look.</p>
<p>"Why, are clerics not allowed in taverns?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The orc lady kinda shrugged at him and glanced at Lyndon like he had a point.</p>
<p>And, well, she did, and Lyndon realized he was a bit of a dick for reacting that way.</p>
<p>His palms rose as if he was backing up, and his tone smoothened appropriately.</p>
<p>"No, no. Just don't see why you'd choose to drink somewhere you'd have to pay for it."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The half elf offered an enigmatic half smile.</p>
<p>"Perhaps I also don't think you would find such good chaps at a temple."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The orc lady snickered amusedly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Fine, fine. I deserved the mocking."</p>
<p>Briefly raising his mug, Lyndon remembered it was already empty. He set it aside and just rested his elbows on the table for now.</p>
<p>"So what are you a cleric of, anyway?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The half elf peeled his sleeve back a bit, revealing the tatoo of a lock and key on his wrist.</p>
<p>"I am a follower of Leandra, the Mistress of Ruthless Denial."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"I think he asked about your duties and not your bedroom preferences."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon pointedly cleared his throat in the orc's direction.</p>
<p>"I would have put that more respectfully, but basically, yeah."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It took the cleric a small sigh to reply to that.</p>
<p>"Disregarding the Weavers like that is not too far from speaking ill of them. But I'm not here to preach. I hold authority in the domain of Dark."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Which one was that again? There's like ... fifteen of them or something.</p>
<p>… Wait a minute.</p>
<p>Lyndon glanced around the tavern. Nothing was out of the ordinary – the fireplace was the right color and cracked cozily, the bartender was lazily sweeping the counter, the slaves were scurrying around with their trays between the various tables of locals and other travelers.</p>
<p>Only the presence of a cleric was weird.</p>
<p>A cleric of the dark – of the domain itself, not of the Weavers of below.</p>
<p>Those guys were the guardians against the aberrations of the void.</p>
<p>Did this forsaken town have uninvited astral guests?</p>
<p>The tavern looked as cozy as any other, though it's not like he knew what to look for.</p>
<p>"You uh ... here on holy business then?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The half elf huffed a calm smile.</p>
<p>"I am. But do not worry, you are not in danger. I was told a comet came down in the hills north of here not too long ago. It's been described as small, so little could've latched on – nothing that would threaten the town, if anything at all. But you can never be too careful."</p>
<p>He swayed his gaze to the orc.</p>
<p>"That's really why I'm here, actually. Wanted to hire someone to come with me and make sure nothing strays too far, if anything is there."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A grunt from the green lady.</p>
<p>"What's the pay?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Flat 50 gold for a trip there and back. If we have to stray from the site, we'll renegotiate."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Also a shrug.</p>
<p>"Good enough. I'm in."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon was pretty certain the lady did not know what she was doing. Mindbenders from another plane? Yeah, no. Better leave it to the experts.</p>
<p>He shook his head.</p>
<p>"I think I'll pass, but thanks."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The half elf smiled amusedly.</p>
<p>"Sorry. Didn't mean for that to sound like it was an offer to your both."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wait what?</p>
<p>"Excuse me?"</p>
<p>Now that struck a nerve. Lyndon frowned.</p>
<p>"Why <em>wouldn't</em> you offer a job to both of us?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The half elf only raised one brow, then glanced at the orc.</p>
<p>"I mean. Look at her, and look at you."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The amused orc was quick to jump on that one.</p>
<p>“Yeah, look at me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon looked.</p>
<p>So she was bigger and had more impressive muscles. And maybe the greataxe she had laying against the table was as big as Lyndon's halberd, but what of it all?</p>
<p>He tried to fake the most unimpressed face he could muster.</p>
<p>"I see a giant arrow pincushion. And a complete lack of grace. And besides, that's racist."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She only scoffed in turn, still not without amusement.</p>
<p>"So what? You gonna deny that orcs are better built for combat than humans?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon frowned more.</p>
<p>"<em>Stronger </em>doesn't mean <em>better. </em>You're big and slow, and you lack nimbleness."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This time the scoff was more agitated than amused.</p>
<p>"Oh please. Whan has your nimbleness ever helped you where strength could not?"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before Lyndon opened his mouth to raise the volume of the conversation yet again, the half elf's finger rose up to stop him.</p>
<p>"If I may interrupt – that's actually a really good idea. <em>Why don't you </em>tell us when it did? That sounds like an entertaining tale, and entertainment is what we're here for, besides recruiting. And let's say... if it's good, the job is yours too."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Hrrrmph."</p>
<p>Lyndon crossed his arms as if protesting, pouting, but apparently the half elf saw right through the gesture and grinned.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Let's hear it then. Slave!"</p>
<p>He clapped his palms, addressing someone in the background.</p>
<p>"Another round of ale for three!"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>These were probably the cheekiest drinking buddies Lyndon's ever met. And one of them was a cleric.</p>
<p>Blasted backwater towns. The weirdest shit happens in them.</p>
<p>Weirdest, but never dull.</p>
<p>"Aah, what the hell."</p>
<p>His drink was empty anyway.</p>
<p>"Lemme remember something good. I haven't had a properly exciting job in a while."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Not going anywhere."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Most of his recent jobs really weren't exciting. Guarding a caravan, escorting a scholar, hunting bandits – really not stories worth telling.</p>
<p>Although, there was one special bandit not too long ago.</p>
<p>Oh, yeah. Yes, he had a story.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The slave returned with drinks – a customarily naked woman with her arms in a boxtie behind her back. Most taverns had them carry food and drink on drawbridge trays they held against their stomach. They were supported by chains on their outer corners that connected them to nipple clips or piercings, so the whole thing resembled a drawbridge.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The orc lady pointedly pressed down on the tray, chuckling as she made the girl squeal in that mixed pleased and pained way.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon could never tell whether they enjoyed that or hated the customers so much that they'd kill them if they weren't slaves. It seemed painful enough just to carry filled mugs and plates of food around, but whatever. He never interacted with them much anyway, as they weren't exactly his type – he replaced a full mug on the tray with his empty one.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The cleric, on the other hand, watched the orc's approach very approvingly, and when it was his turn to switch mugs, he pressed a little bit himself before waving her away.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon raised his drink.</p>
<p>"Well – every story starts with three gulps. 'Tis custom."</p>
<p>The drunk man everybody had forgotten about mumbled something vaguely approving in his sleep.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As everybody let out out a freshly spirited breath, the mercenary started.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"So. I had this job at the ... don't even remember the name of the place. Some small no-name village in the east Sedonian Valley. Doesn't matter anyway. They had this problem with cart travelers going missing. Just – poof. Happened 3 or 4 times before people realized it was some kind of bandit gang preying on the roads. Well, it wasn't."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He took a sip from his mug. The others seemed to be mildly interested in the story so far. The half elf leaned back, listening leisurely. The orc kinda tried to appear standoffish, idly swirling the ale in her mug.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>"Things started off pretty standard. Talked to villagers, figured out who went missing where most recently. There wasn't proper guard or a militia to speak of – everyone was too afraid to travel or go looking, so there was barely any information to go around. It started with some girl disappearing, then the carters went missing, then a couple more travelers.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That kind of stuff happen often?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon shrugged at the half elf.</p>
<p>“Sort of. In lived-in or patrolled places it's usually one-offs and beasts or monsters are responsible. Everywhere else, it's often bandits, and you know it's bandits when the attacks are frequent, though they usually just make the goods go poof and not the people.”</p>
<p>He leaned in a bit with his elbow on the table.</p>
<p>“Anyway, thankfully, or, unfortunately I guess, the last person went missing only a couple of days ago. The weather was good all week so there were still tracks to be found. Pretty good start, I thought. Won't have to bait them or walk into ambushes. I needed a tracker.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The orc was quick to interrupt that with a scoff.</p>
<p>“You don't even know how to follow tracks? Pathetic.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon decided the jab was rather unimpressive and simply carried on.</p>
<p>“... And of course I knew how to track, but I figured it wouldn't hurt to recruit someone who knows the area and can watch my back if the bandits aren't just your usual handful of unskilled farmers.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It was unsurprisingly satisfying to hear the orc's displeased grumble as the half elf approvingly raised his mug.</p>
<p>“Can never be too careful. The Weavers protect those who protect themselves.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He wasn't a hard crowd to win over. In fact, Lyndon was starting to suspect that the half elf only mocked him to get him to take the job.</p>
<p>Which, well, with a burly orc and an expert cleric on board, and after some more ale, did not seem like that risky of a job anymore.</p>
<p>But he was halfway through his story already, so might as well continue.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So I recruited … heh. The Woman of the Woods, they called her. Maven the retired ranger. Probably the most reliable companion I've had the pleasure to work with.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uh-huh.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon frowned.</p>
<p>“What now?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The orc shrugged innocently.</p>
<p>“Nothing. Bet you enjoyed getting topped like a slave.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon grimaced.</p>
<p>“Ugh. She was like half a century older than me. And I'm not even into women. And none of that is your damn business in the first place.”</p>
<p>He took a sip from his mug to avoid saying nasty things, but his frustrated sigh quickly revealed that that helped little.</p>
<p>“... Now where the hell was I?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At least the half elf seemed entertained by the exchange.</p>
<p>“You hired a ranger.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Right. Well, not quite hired … anyway. We went down the road the next day, looking for signs of the latest missing carter. Found the ambush site pretty easily. That's where it started getting weird. It was no bandit gang that did it – we found tracks, like, <em>huge</em> tracks.”</p>
<p>Lyndon estimated the size with hand gestures.</p>
<p>“They looked like an ogre's in shape, but they were the size of a hill giant. It must've been some weird crossbreed or some such, but it was alone and the signs of passage were clear as day. Would be a real shame to let them decay while we went back for help. So we decided to keep going.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Risky.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon nodded.</p>
<p>“Yeah, but I had a good feeling about it and Maven clearly knew what she was doing. She had some magic helping us along – some woodland tricks and whatnot, I never really asked nor cared to understand. We found its camp. It was about what you'd expect: a crude bonfire, a pile of bones, a shit pit, some giant sized bedding – not even inside a cave. The fucker must've been too big for one. But yes, you heard me right – <em>the </em>fucker. It looked like there was bedding for just one.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Surprised you handled even one. That Maven must've done most of the work.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The jabs were getting eyeroll worthy. It was classic cocky behavior too – she probably didn't even mean to be so offensive, but just couldn't help it.</p>
<p>Or so Lyndon liked to think, anyway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“She pulled her weight. We both did. We figured that if it's just one, then we can take it with a proper ambush. I'd be the bait and taunt it around, she'd shoot it in the back. Big ones are always dumb.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>He glanced at the orc briefly, who either pretended not to notice, or genuinely didn't.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“They fall for that kind of stuff. So we found good hiding spots and waited.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Another sip from the mug.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Still had no idea what the hell it was, and let me tell you we were quite intrigued to find that out.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“A gang of halflings in a trench coat?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Both Lyndon and the cleric smirked.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay – I'll give you that one. That one's good.”</p>
<p>There was still some desire to take that praise somewhere mean though.</p>
<p>No matter.</p>
<p>“But no. It was a crossbreed, like we guessed, but none like we had seen before. Dude was like 13 feet tall. Huge, muscular, fit unlike an ogre. He had these bony spikes jutting out of his shoulders and elbows, and just one large eye.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Another scoff from the orc.</p>
<p>“That ain't like a cyclops I've ever seen.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon scoffed back, grimacing slightly and shaking his head in disbelief.</p>
<p>“Like you've ever seen a real cyclops.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I never said I did.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eyeroll.</p>
<p>“Whatever. It wasn't a cyclops, I don't think – he was too small for that. And looked too much like an ogre. Anyway, that's not even the interesting part. The guy was strapped, like as in wearing leather straps all over his body. And guess what was attached to them? A woman.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The half elf didn't really interrupt much, and it was somehow really satisfying when he did. Perhaps it was because he didn't try and pretend to be unimpressed or uninterested, and his brows genuinely went up in surprise.</p>
<p>“A living woman? Human?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon nodded with a slight smile. He liked the attention.</p>
<p>“A living human woman. Strapped eagle across his massive chest. Wearing nothing but a gag harness, and impaled on his long dick.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The orc scoffed again.</p>
<p>“You're making this shit up.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon simply shook his head.</p>
<p>“Nope. We were surprised as much as you. You don't see weird ogres using women as cock sleeves every day, and frankly that was one impressive dick.”</p>
<p>He paused.</p>
<p>Drunk enough to be aware of what he said, and also drunk enough to say it.</p>
<p>“Though we soon figured out it wasn't entirely a kinky thing. We were in ambush. I was waiting by a pile of firewood at the edge of his camp, and she was perched up on the branch of a tree on the other side. She did some weird magic stuff on the ground between us so it'd hurt the guy when he passed. We signaled to each other when he was in good position, and I stepped out to attract him.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The half elf seemed rather invested in the story by now, leaning onto the table and listening attentively.</p>
<p>“What did you say?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Uh … you know. The standard things that get 'em. Your mom's fat, I'm here to kill you, come fight me and all that. He didn't buy it though. Not right away. He looked around as if he knew it was ambush talk.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The orc gave him a sidelong glance as she drank her ale.</p>
<p>“Not all big ones are dumb then, huh?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon cleared his throat quietly.</p>
<p>“Well, kind of. He didn't turn to Maven on the tree because the girl on his chest started struggling and mumbling loudly through her gag. He got distracted, threatened her, and came after me saying he'll deal with me first, and with her later.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The half elf's curiosity only rose.</p>
<p>“So clear this up. Did he have giant weapons? Armor?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon shook his head.</p>
<p>“No, he was bare handed. For some reason. Being that big probably makes you more confident than you should be.”</p>
<p>Another glance at the orc, who promptly ignored it.</p>
<p>“And as for armor, well, there was the girl. By the time he got to me, his feet were already bloodied and bleeding because of Maven's magic, and she had sunk two arrows into his back. She pulled her weight there. I tried to catch him with my halberd, but he put the damn girl in the way each time. I scared her half to death with some of my attempts. Not my most proudest moments, but at least she was unhurt.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Were you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Getting to that.”</p>
<p>Lyndon paused to take a swig from his mug.</p>
<p>“So he threw some stomps and slams. Not too hard to dodge. I managed to clip his arm, and Maven sunk another arrow. But then he went for a sweeping grab, and that's where I got caught. The fucker grabbed me like I was this mug right here – and threw me all the way across the camp, straight at the branch Maven was on.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Woah.”</p>
<p>This time, finally, even the orc was impressed.</p>
<p>“Damn.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yeah. Still don't know if he saw her then or if it was dumb luck.”</p>
<p>Wasn't actually all that nice to remember it, now that he got to that part.</p>
<p>“I slammed into her and we both tumbled down a good 20 or 30 feet. She banged her head on something and got knocked out cold. It was just me against him, then.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“So what did you do?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I dodged. Like never before. He started throwing stuff at me – probably too afraid to walk the magic'd area again barefeet. But I figured the magic goes away once you're knocked out like that – so I charged straight through. Dodged a boulder, then another, I guess you could say I parried a log. I got to him right as he was about to strike with another – I feinted a slash, and stabbed him in the leg instead.”</p>
<p>Another gulp. This much talking was drying the throat pretty quickly.</p>
<p>“So he stumbled and fell on his back. I figured it was my chance to end it, so I jumped on top of him and … well, I guess I stomped the girl a little on the way, she wasn't making it easy to just run up his chest. Still, I did, and brought my halberd right across his face, splitting his eye and skull in half.”</p>
<p>Lyndon inhaled a breath, puffing out his chest a bit, as if victoriously.</p>
<p>“And that was that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The two, even the orc, were listening with unveiled curiosity now, and seemed slightly disappointed by the abrupt ending. The half elf was more hungry for the details.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“And what of the ranger? And the girl?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hm. Well, Maven was fine. Came to by the time I was done with the guy, and even helped me unstrap the girl and pull her off. Tough woman, that one. And as for the girl... dumb as bricks.”</p>
<p>He took a pause to drink on purpose, well knowing that the wait for more was probably annoying the orc.</p>
<p>“... She turned out to be the first person that went missing. But she wasn't kidnapped. She just wasn't very bright. Basically she wanted to see what it's like to be a sex slave, which is … you know, a fairly reasonable fantasy for most people - ”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The orc grinned.</p>
<p>“Especially you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“- Shut up – but she was the sister of the local slave trader, so everyone expected her to be ... dominance personified, or something. Dumb villagers. So instead of being a reasonable person and just subbing to someone in private, she decided it would be okay to do it to a random ogron – that's what he called his kind – that she met in the woods, and spend a day as his cock sleeve.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The half elf hummed knowingly.</p>
<p>“I'm guessing she ended up there for more than a day.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lyndon nodded.</p>
<p>“A couple of weeks or so. She figured things were wrong almost right after it was too late – after she was strapped, he gagged her and went killing her villagers for their stuff.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Both the orc and the cleric winced a bit.</p>
<p>“A horrible fate. To watch your friends die as you just hang there, helpless. May the Weavers shield her of such horrors in the rest of her life.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Indeed. At least she still has the rest of her life. Apparently she never felt hungry or thirsty up there, and my halberd didn't clip her even once. Not as horrible of a fate as it could have been after all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The table hummed thoughtfully to that sentiment. Everybody took another swig from their mugs, some noticing that they were near empty.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eventually the orc shook her head.</p>
<p>“I still don't see how your so-called 'grace' helped you at all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And it was probably the most provoking thing she could have said, because Lyndon almost jumped from his seat to <em>glare </em>at her and slam the table with his palms.</p>
<p>“WHAT?! What about the part where I dodged all those boulders and logs? Or the part where I delivered a <em>masterful </em>coup d'etat? Or where I didn't fucking die from flying across the entire camp and falling off a tree??”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Whatever the overly amused orc was going to gaslight him with further was drowned out by the cleric's loud laughter. He took the both of their attentions, and even managed to instill some sense of self awareness of how ridiculous and stupid this exchange just was.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Wiping another tear from his eye, he sighed with a big smile.</p>
<p>“Alright, well, listen. That was a good story and an impressive kill. A deal's a deal. You have the job too if you want it. Now how about we turn the tables on our lady here?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The orc and Lyndon glanced at each other like two kids who didn't quite finish fighting but respected the mom too much to disobey.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why don't you tell us of a time where your strength saved you, when grace could not? We've still got half the night ahead of us.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The orc leaned back with her arms crossed, and so the cleric grinned again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Alright. Hey, slave! Another round of ale for three.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ah, what the hell.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
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